The Rancher And The Baby. Marie Ferrarella

I certainly don’t want to have a tug-of-war with this child if that’s what you’re thinking.” It came out like an accusation.

      Will didn’t rise to the bait. “No, what I’m thinking is that this baby needs to be seen by one of the doctors at the clinic.” It wasn’t a suggestion.

      Okay, Cassidy allowed, so maybe Laredo was capable of having a decent thought once in a blue moon. But she wasn’t about to let him think that he’d gotten the jump on her.

      “That’s just where I’m taking him,” she informed Will coolly.

      But he wasn’t budging.

      Now what? she thought, exasperated.

      “You planning on tossing him in the back of the truck?” Will asked.

      Her eyebrows drew together like light blond thunderbolts, aimed right for his heart. “Of course not,” she snapped.

      He continued to hold on to the infant protectively. The baby was beginning to fuss. But Will’s attention was focused on the woman who stood in his way. “Okay, then what?”

      “Um—”

      To Cassidy’s surprise, he relinquished his hold on the infant, who was now beginning to cry. “C’mon, you hold the baby, I’ll drive.”

      It really irked her when he took the lead this way, as if he was in control of everything, including her. “I don’t need you to drive us.”

      Standing right in front of her, Will drew himself up to his full height. Although Cassidy would have never admitted it out loud, he did make a formidable obstacle.

      “You planning on holding him in one arm while driving with the other hand?” he asked, then challenged, “On these roads?”

      She knew he was right and hated giving him that. But unless she was willing to stand here, listening to the baby crying progressively louder—possibly even endangering this baby—she had no choice.

      “Okay, fine,” she bit out, “you drive—but we’re coming back for my truck.”

      He nodded absently. “I’ve got no problem with that,” he said, leading the way back to his vehicle.

      “What’s that supposed to mean?” Cassidy asked.

      He made her crazy. It felt as if everything out of his mouth came with a hidden meaning. Plus, Cassidy found she had to really lengthen her stride in order to try to keep up with him. But there was no way she was going to ask Laredo to slow down. She’d never done it with any of her brothers—all of whom were taller than she was—and she sure as hell wasn’t going to do it with Laredo.

      Instead, Cassidy glared at the back of his head all the way to his truck.

      When they reached it, Will opened the door directly behind the driver’s seat and held it open for her.

      She immediately took it to mean he regarded her as subservient to him. “What’s wrong with the front seat?” she asked.

      Will continued to hold the door open for her. “Backseat’s safer for the baby.”

      Cassidy blew out a breath. Damn it, Will was right, and she hated that.

      When he took hold of her elbow, she pulled free and nearly jabbed him with it. “I can get into the truck on my own.”

      Unfazed, Will said, “I’m just looking out for the baby.”

      Cassidy scowled at him. “Just because you helped save him doesn’t automatically make you his fairy godmother.”

      “I kind of see myself more like a guardian angel than a fairy godmother,” he deadpanned. “They’ve got bigger wings.” He added that with a sly wink that made her desperately want to punch him if only her arms weren’t full.

      Cassidy bit her bottom lip to keep from saying something caustic. The next moment, as she seated herself directly behind the driver’s seat, she felt Laredo reaching over her.

      So much for silence, she thought, giving up. “Okay, what the hell do you think you’re trying to do?” Cassidy demanded.

      “I think I’m trying to get this seat belt around you and the baby. We’re liable to hit a skid in this weather, and I don’t want the two of you suddenly flying out the window—or worse,” he added with deliberate emphasis.

      “Since when did you become so damn thoughtful?” Cassidy asked coldly.

      Her eyes widened. Was it her imagination, or had Laredo’s hand just slid over her lap as he stepped back after fastening the seat belt?

      “I’ve always been thoughtful, Cassidy. You’ve just been too mean-tempered to notice,” he answered mildly.

      Before she had a chance to snap at him, Will shut her door and went over to get into the front seat.

      “I am not mean-tempered,” she informed him, struggling to hold on to that same temper.

      Will shut the door and secured his own seat belt before starting the vehicle. Only then did he raise his eyes to the rearview mirror to look at her. “I’ve got a town full of people who might argue with you about that,” he replied mildly.

      Her eyes met his in the mirror. She could feel her temper heating, but there was no time to give Laredo a piece of her mind or take him down. The baby had begun to cry in earnest now. Even if the infant was just wet and hungry, she had no dry clothes, diapers or food to offer him, so the sooner they got to the clinic, the better.

      “Just drive!” she ordered.

      “Yes, ma’am,” Will responded.

      She didn’t need to see his face to know that his mouth had assumed that all-too-familiar smirk she knew and hated. She could hear it in his voice.

      Okay, Laredo. I need you to help me get this baby to the medical clinic. But once we do and this little guy is someone else’s problem, I am going to become your worst nightmare.

      She paused for a moment, savoring that thought. And anticipating.

      Even worse than I already am.